


as for the stars, they are always on

by brahe



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Injury Recovery, Introspection, Post-Episode: s01e15 Fire Across the Galaxy, Post-Season/Series 01, ghost crew mentioned, he just really loves his wife and his kids ok, this is kind of a holiday fic i guess, ultra space dad kanan, wip title was post season one holiday version so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 22:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: Kanan sighs, rolling his head to the side to look out the window on the wall. Outside, the planet’s massive moon illuminates the slow snowfall, big, white flakes falling gently and insistently from the sky. It’s warm, and Kanan’s glad they’ll be grounded for the holiday this year, all of them together for the first time.Or,Kanan thinks about his family, and the snow falls steadily outside the medbay window.





	as for the stars, they are always on

**Author's Note:**

> what's up i'm back with fluff bc im Stressed™
> 
> title from a part of speech by joseph brodsky, which i have not actually read, but i like the line
> 
> also this is kind of for [inconocible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inconocible/pseuds/inconocible) (as usual lasdjf) ilysm!!!!

The medbay is calm, quiet mechanical humming a gentle background noise, and normally Kanan would hate to be stuck here, still and away, but right now he welcomes the respite – it's been a rough few days, let alone weeks, and at least here he knows everyone will be safe. He's been laid up in a bed beside Ezra's for going on two days now, bound by Hera's stern word and watchful eye. She sat by his side the first night here, his hand curled around her own –

_“I'm worried about you,” she tells him, and he sees her gaze flick to Ezra's. “Both of you,” she adds, and looks back to Kanan. “But especially you.”_

_Kanan squeezes her hand. “I'm okay,” he says, and smiles when she scoffs._

_“I've heard that before,” she says, shaking her head. “Ezra told me a little of what happened,” she admits, “and I'm – I'm glad you're okay. But promise me you'll stay here and rest up. Please?”_

_Kanan looks at her, studies the lines in her face and the slope of her lekku, the warm concern and affection in her eyes_ . _She’s beautiful, he thinks, not like that’s anything new. But he thinks of earlier, of how less than a day ago he had resigned himself to never seeing her face again, and he reminds himself how lucky he is to get to see her, to touch her, how lucky he is that she’s chosen him, allowed him far enough into her life to be where they are._

_“Yeah,” Kanan agrees, soft. Like he would’ve said anything else. There isn’t much he wouldn’t do if she asked it of him. “Okay.”_

_The smile that gently curves up the corner of her lips is like sunlight after a rainstorm, and she must see something on his face, in his eyes, because it grows into a proper smile, and then she’s leaning forward to press that smile against his own lips, and he feels whatever else of his world was off balance has been righted again._

_“Rest,” Hera tells him, again, whispered against his mouth, and there’s still a smile on his face when she leaves._

The chair beside his bed is empty now, the hour late; the rest of the crew has fallen asleep, Ezra included. Kanan sighs, rolling his head to the side to look out the window on the wall. The light inside and outside is dim – inside, string lights outline the window and the wall behind their heads, brought in by Sabine and Zeb and strung up with only minor difficulty. Outside, the planet’s massive moon illuminates the slow snowfall, big, white flakes falling gently and insistently from the sky. It’s warm, and Kanan’s glad they’ll be grounded for the holiday this year, _all_ of them together for the first time.

Kanan's thoughts turn to Ezra, as they've been wont to do lately – he thinks about everything that's happened since they picked him up, the way he's turned Kanan's life completely upside down. The weight of his lightsaber in his hand is more familiar now than it's been since the Order, the memories it brings older but aching less and less, and when Kanan watches Ezra move, watches him use his powers and the smile it always garners, he feels the years and years of pain fade just a little more every time, feels something else take its place, something like pride, like love sitting warm around his heart.

They've all changed, since. Sabine continues to come out of her shell, and every time she smiles Kanan's so glad they found her; Zeb’s lost some of that tension he always carried around, his shoulders looser and his laughter freer. Each of them has saved him in ways he knows he'll never be able to thank, be able to repay, but Ezra – Ezra is something else. Kanan can feel in his bones how entwined they are, how quickly and how tightly and how surely their fates are connected to one another, and it's terrifying, looking into the future and the Force and this child's eyes with the weight of that; but it's thrilling, too, wild and new and full of a kind of hope Kanan hasn't felt in a long, long time.

He turns his head from the frosty window to Ezra, still fast asleep, and he can't help but think about how young Ezra looks here, like this, curled on his side with pale sheets tucked around him, lit golden by the lights. And he _is_ young, Kanan knows, but age is more than just years, and Ezra's had more than his fair share of experience. They both have, Kanan thinks, and he's so, so happy they found Ezra when they did, earlier than the others, but almost, maybe, too late.

Ezra isn't supposed to be sleeping on his side, Kanan remembers with a fond, exasperated sigh – bad for his bruised ribs, the medical droid had told them. A shadow of the ache he'd felt from before wraps around his chest, and he closes his eyes against the memory of Ezra falling, tumbling, _dying._ Kanan had been so sure – _so_ sure – and it had ripped something out of him. Their bond hadn't been fully formed yet – still isn't, even now – but there had been enough for Kanan to feel the hole it left behind, to remember his own master's. It left him angry and brash and dangerous, anyway, fueled by a dull, old pain and new, sharp pain; and to be honest he's surprised with himself, and glad he made it out. Glad they both did.

He looks at Ezra, and he's proud of himself, too, because he's been on the same road for a long while, recovery slow and agonizing and dauntingly impossible, but here, now, he knows he's started down another one, something new and far more profound. It's not about him anymore – it's about Ezra, it's about _them_ and the future that's waiting. He knows he'll love this kid with the strength of a supernova, if he doesn't already, and he knows everything is different now, and maybe a little scarier, but –

“Mm, ‘anan?” Ezra murmurs, eyes fluttering open only to close again. Kanan realizes he must of woken Ezra with the strength of his feelings, and he reaches out a hand to soothe him, fingers rubbing gently at his arm.

“Sh, go back to sleep,” he says, pushing the soft love curled around his heart into their fledgling bond. Ezra hums, tucking his blanket up under his chin, and he falls quickly back to sleep, a calming lull against Kanan's mind.

When he looks back out the window, the snow is still falling slowly, mesmerizing, and Kanan hopes they won't be in here much longer so he can take Ezra out, take their whole family out for a day in the snow, away from everything that weighs on them. He settles back into his bed thinking of it: of lobing snowballs at each other and slipping around the ice; of Ezra covered in snow and of Sabine's bright laughter; of Hera flushed and happy; and of himself, happy and in love and so glad he’s found this.


End file.
